Be Cool, Dave
by Thecattygrl
Summary: Dave seemed to mess everything up. From getting his friends killed to landing himself in prison. The only one he hasn't seemed to ruin yet is Bro - Or has he? (Strider Bros) Triggers: Character Death


_Well this sucks._

That was the current thought that went through Bro's mind. He tried getting a foot up far enough to get a look out the little window, but the stony rubble wasn't enough to to hold his weight and he fell back to the ground, landing on his ass in the process.

"Just give it a rest, Bro," Dave grumbled, sitting against a wall, knees tucked into himself. Bro growled at the younger Strider, pissed off at his lack of care.

"No. Why don't you get off your lazy ass and help me?" Bro demanded, trying again with the same result.

"I already tried," Dave replied, simply, "It didn't help any more than you jumping up to it. Besides, there are bars on those windows. Were you just hoping they'd just fall off?"

"Okay. Look. I don't want you to die, Dave. We have to think of something."

"What's the point?" Dave mumbled.

"What the _hell_ has gotten into you?" Bro walked up to him, dragging him to his feet and looking in his face, "Seriously. What. The Hell?"

"Oh. I don't know," Dave rolled his eyes, "Maybe it has something to do with the fact Rose was murdered three months ago, Jade has literally just dropped off the map, John got his stupid ass eaten by a fucking monster and now I'm about to get my goddamn head cut off. Maybe I should be skipping around in joy just about now. You're about the only person that I haven't manage to fuck over completely - And I landed you in a fucking cell."

"I'm sorry about your friends - I really am - But we can't deal with that right now," Bro stated, "We have to get out of here, Dave. Then you can go about with your sob story. Let me save us first... Please."

"It's not like you're going to be executed, too," Dave reminded him, "Just me. You get to walk away from this scratch free. They're just holding you so you don't do anything stupid."

"Why did you have to bite the queen anyways?" Bro asked.

"Because she tried to take my glasses," Dave muttered.

"They're a pair of fucking shades," Bro rolled his eyes, "Were they really worth dying over?"

"They were from John."

"Whatever," Bro turned away from his younger brother, resisting a strong urge to just punch the wall - Or his face. He wasn't about to let anyone off his baby brother. It was stupid and reckless to try and take on the entire army. If it wasn't Dave on the line, he might have gone for it, but not this time. Not with so much at stake.

No, he needed a different angle. Negotiation. That might work. The queen might be a bit agreeable. Maybe he could bring the issue to the king, if he had to.

Walking up to the cell bars, he called out to anyone standing nearby, "Yo! Guard! Anyone! Hello!"

"What?" a strangely clad guard, approached, his jester gear would be laughable at any other point in time, but Bro wasn't in a laughing mood at the moment.

"I seek an audience with the queen," Bro stated.

"What? What are you doing?" Dave spoke up, lifting his head to stare at Bro, confused. His question went ignored.

"You're a criminal," the guard rolled his eyes.

"Technically, I'm just here for my own safety," Bro corrected, "And I have rights. Therefore, I demand to see the queen."

"Very well," the guard scowled, "I shall speak to the queen to see if she'll entertain you." The guard walked away and Dave was suddenly there, asking questions, a skeptical look in his eyes.

"What are you doing?" he repeated.

"Well, you wouldn't fucking help," Bro crossed his arms, simply, "So... I'm trying something else."

"You're doing something stupid, aren't you?" Dave guessed, "You're gonna get yourself killed, Jackass."

"Just shut up for a minute, Kid," Bro avoided the question, ruffling his hair, "We're stuck here with each other for a bit. Let's do something."

"Like what?" Dave narrowed his eyes.

"We can practice," Bro shrugged.

"Neither of us have our swords," Dave pointed out, "And who the Hell even knows where Lil Cal is right now."

"We'll practice with our bare hands," Bro suggested, "I know, not as classy as the swords, but... It's better than nothing."

"No. I don't want to," Dave stated.

"I think you're just afraid I'm going to beat you," Bro smirked.

"Will not!"

"Prove it."

"Dirk Strider," a guard called into the cell, a while later, interrupting the wrestling brothers. Both looked up with surprise, but Bro recovered first.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"The queen has agreed to see you."

"_Bro_," Dave muttered, watching him head towards the opened cell door with skepticism, "Nothing stupid."

"'Course not, Kid," Bro offered him a mock salute as he stepped out and disappeared from view, the guard on his tail, in case he tried anything funny. Dave sank to the floor, impatiently waiting for the return of his elder sibling.

* * *

Bro entered the cell again, the door unforgivably slammed behind him. He glared at the smug guard who strutted away.

Turning back to his prison, he noticed a sniffling figure curled in the corner and took a hesitant step towards them, "Dave?"

The sniffling instantly stopped and the voice that replied to him was confidant, but a crack snuck its way in there - Only noticeable because of Bro's years of experience, "What?"

"Are you _crying_?" Bro demanded, slightly surprised. Dave wasn't usually one to be scared about death... At least not in such an expressive way.

"No," came the all too quick response.

"Hey," Bro crossed the room and knelt beside him, trying to catch his eyes. The quick glance he got showed they were red and puffy - So he had been crying, "What's up?"

"Nothing much," Dave snapped, "You know. Just gonna be dying in a few hours."

"You and I both know that isn't what this is about," Bro frowned, unconvinced.

"I already told you I'm fine," Dave insisted.

"Do I have to beat it out of you?" Bro raised an eyebrow, "Because I can do that."

"You can not," Dave scoffed.

"You wanna bet?" Bro spat back. Dave didn't reply, contemplating what exactly to say - And whether he should say it.

"You better not fucking laugh," he growled, after a second.

"Scout's honour," Bro promised, holding up a hand as extra assurance.

"It's just..." Dave swallowed, collecting his thought, "I've really fucked up, Bro. Bad. I mean, I've always kind of been a disappointment, but..."

"Hey," Bro stopped him from saying anything else, "You're not a fuck up. You gotta not do this to yourself, Lil Man. It does you no good."

"Yeah," Dave mumbled, wrapping his arms around his brother's waist and burying his face in his shirt, "I'm... I'm scared, Man. Knowing what's coming."

"You'll be fine, Dave," Bro insisted, placing a hand on his back and rubbing comforting circles in them, "I'll think of something."

He already had, in fact, but Dave didn't need to know that. This was one of those things best left unsaid.

They stayed like that for a bit, Dave falling asleep after a while. Bro held him close, taking in every strand of hair and inch of skin - Memorizing the boy he'd spent so much time raising and protecting. The one he would not see, again. He tried to keep his breathing level and his face dry, but it didn't help. A choked sob wracked through his body. Dave remained asleep.

* * *

"Remember that time I totally beat you up using Lil Cal," Bro laughed, "And you fell down the stairs? Dude, I swear I thought you were going to get a concussion or something. That was so fucking rad."

"Shut up," Dave rolled his eyes, but his lip tilted up a bit, anyways. It was a fond memory - Even if he had gotten the shit beaten out of him.

"Dirk Strider," a new guard called into the cell, opening the door. He wore an expression far too close to pity. It made Bro want to puke. He didn't care. Not really.

"Yeah?" Bro called back, making to get to his feet. Dave was confused. What's he doing?

"It's time," the guard explained, softly.

"Time? Time for what?" Dave demanded, trying to follow Bro as he made for the exit.

"Dave," Bro stopped, standing still, his shoulders hunched.

"Bro?"

"_Dave_," Bro swallowed, composed himself and turning to face the younger boy, kneeling down a bit to be at the same level as him, "Listen. I need you to do something for me."

"Yeah? What?" Dave asked.

"No matter what happens, you stay cool, Okay?" Bro commanded, "You be cool, Dave. For me. For your friends. You understand me?"

"What's gonna happen?" Dave worried.

"_Dave_. Promise me."

Dave nodded, "Yeah. Sure. Cool. But, Bro-"

"Later, Lil Man," Bro saluted, exiting and leaving Dave alone, once again.

* * *

"_Dirk Strider._" Bro never thought he'd hate to hear his own name so much. The one who read the charges was a short, chubby dude. Black adorned his outfit. It kind of made the entire situation a little more ominous. Wonderful, "You have been here by charged with assault of the queen and punishment for this crime is death. If there is any citizen here who wishes to object to this, please speak now or forever hold your peace. Bro scoffed. Of course they would keep the only person that would actually bother to speak up behind bars. No one said anything.

"Bring forward the accused," came a command. A few rough looking guards grabbed his arms. If he really wanted to, he could have broken away easily, but it wasn't about running. If he even moved a finger out of place, his brother would be back under the knife. That wasn't going to happen as long as Bro had any say in it.

He was brought to his knees and his neck was rested against the wooden slab. Hands went for his had and shades, but he growled at them and they retreated. He glanced up at the queen, sorrowfully staring at him. He came to realise that she really didn't have all that much power at all - Even this small gesture was more than she really could have been asked of. He wished he could blame her, but he couldn't; He was grateful.

"As is according to our laws, we will ask you what your last request will be," he was told, "If it is not beyond our abilities, we will respect it upon your death - Even if you did not deserve it in life."

"I suppose it's against the rules to ask for my life to be spared?" Bro chuckled, keeping an emotionless face. No reply came, so he quickly made a more meaningful one.

"I ask that my little brother, Dave, doesn't know about this," Bro answered, "Tell him... Tell him I agreed to pay servitude or something to pay his bail. My dying wish is that Dave doesn't know about my death."

"As this is within the boundaries of our ability, your wish will be granted and anyone found to be working against it be punished in the same manner." Dirk closed his eyes, grateful that he could count on at least that.

The room fell silent. There was nothing else to say. There was no more time to waste. This was it.

This was the end of the road.

* * *

"Dave?" the queen rapped lightly on his cell, making the cool kid look up.

"Yeah?" he asked, showing no emotion. Mostly he was just lonely and confused.

"I've come to let you go," she explained, "These guards will be escorting you to the exit. You will be asked not to return again." The guards were glanced at, briefly.

"Where's my brother?" Dave demanded, not moving an inch. Her eyes fell sad and she held something out to him. A white shirt, grey cap and a pair of anime shades rested neatly in her arms. He bolted to his feet and snatched them up, staring at them.

"_What happened to him?_" he pressed, panicking all over, again.

"He... Agreed to put himself into servitude in place of your execution," the queen explained, softly, "He was moved out to a far off location, we cannot disclose to you, this morning. He asked that these be given to you."

"_Fuck_," he breathed, his heart beating fast, "I told him not to do some stupid shit and what does he do? Something fucking stupid! _Dammit, Bro_!" Dave covered his face, willing himself to calm down, "Fuck... I've fucked up so badly..."

"He'll be fine, Dave," the queen placed a hand on his shoulder. It is time for you to leave. You have my best of wishes on your journey."

"Thanks," Dave muttered, not really even registering who she was or what she said. He was more worried about his brother.

They passed a big open room with a guillotine on the raised platform in the center. Some poor loser was cleaning blood of it. They must have had to execute someone else after his was canceled just to appease the people.

_What a bunch of sick bastards._

He was led to the exit and reminded not to return, again. Like he'd ever want to come back, anyways. He looked down at the items in his hand one last time, before tucking them away, safely.

"I'm coming, Bro," he muttered, looking out to the horizon with determination, "Wherever you are... I'm coming."

**The End.**


End file.
